Casual Mode
by Found-Familiar
Summary: "[T]hey feel pain- just as we do." This little FE Heroes oneshot is essentially just a typical commentary on respawns in-universe.


"My lord, can you hear me? Prince Marth!'

"Don't shake him, Draug. You'll make the bleeding worse." Anna lays a firm hand on the knight's wrist, urging him away from the wounded prince's shoulder. Her other hand is pressed against Marth's stomach, half lost in the blood and torn fabric. "Damn it, we can't afford to keep hiding here. Where the hell is Wrys?"

"The last I saw of him, he was with Kiran." Draug leans against the wall shielding them, well aware that beyond it laie half a dozen Emblian soldiers waiting to riddle them with arrows and spells.

"I-I don't know where…. I mean, I didn't see…." Any semblance of a helpful answer is beyond Kiran. They cannot wrench their stare away from the blood, from the dull shock in Marth's eyes and the sheen of sweat on his ashen face. The tears are trapped somewhere between Kiran's head and their throat, reducing their breathing to shallow gasps not unlike the prince's.

Anna clenches her teeth. "I hope he found somewhere to hide himself. Draug, how many Emblians can you hold off?"

"Three or four," the knight replies tentatively. He props his sword against the wall and hoists his shield; both of his allies who are still capable of doing so wince as the clattering of his armor rings out.

"That will have to do." Anna turns to Kiran with a canyon-deep frown. "I know you're scared, but we're all counting on you to pull yourself together. Come here."

Kiran scoots forward as if dragged by a rope around their neck. They are silent as Anna takes their hands and folds them over the sodden rag she has been holding against Marth's wound.

"Keep this here, and make sure he stays awake," she instructs. Her eyes flicker over Kiran's face in search of a response, but all they can muster is a weak nod. That, like everything else in the moment, is as good as it is going to get. Anna springs to her feet, smearing blood off on her armor so that she can retrieve her axe. "I'm coming with you," she tells Draug, already pushing past him. "Take care of the archers while I look for Wrys."

"I'm on it."

The two duck away from the safety of the wall, leaving Kiran alone with a dying man. They can feel his heart struggling through their palms. His eyelids are fluttering.

"Um…. hang in there?" they try. If they can manage not to think about the blood seeping through their fingers, they will be okay. Everything will be fine. "I…. don't know why I'm here." They let out a hollow laugh. "You're all heroes. I'm just…." They are forced to pause, trying to swallow the lump in their throat. "Shit, I'm just a kid. I-I mean, so are you, but…. hell, I wasn't built for this."

Marth does not respond. His eyes have finally drifted shut, and there is no indication that he is still listening or even lucid. Kiran considers shaking him awake, but even in their dazed state, they have not forgotten Anna's warning.

Instead, they raise their voice: "What, you…. you don't like my monologue? Sorry, I…. I…."

The words do not come. They search, but before long, it does not matter. The moment they realize that they can no longer feel his heartbeat, they recoil, slamming the back of their head against the wall by accident. A black cloud fills their vision, and they jerk their knees up toward their chest, curling in on themself. They can hear shouting, Draug and Anna's voices both fighting to rise over the cries of their opponents. They do not see the countless arrows that crack against Draug's armor and drop harmlessly to the ground, nor do they see the one that does not. They do not see Anna turn to find her teammate staring at nothing over the shaft buried in his forehead. They do not see the swordsman creeping up behind her. All that they know is when the shouting stops. That is when they find not only the strength but the burning, uncontrollable desire to run.

Somehow, they find themself back at the Askran castle. They collapse at its gates, retching as the emotions and exhaustion catch up with them all at once. Prince Alphonse finds them trying to spit the last of the acid out of their mouth, shoulders heaving as they rub their hands on the front of their shirt, their out-of-place jeans, anything that will get the red stains off of their hands.

"Gods, Kiran, are you alright?" The inquiry is stupid. He rushes to their side, putting an arm over their shoulders. "Can you stand?"

They ignore his question but fling their arms around his neck and bury their face into his chest, desperate for the warmth. Fears of class separation and boundaries are far, far from their mind now. "Jesus, it was awful," they whimper into his tunic. "We…. we weren't ready. Anna…. Draug…. Everyone's…."

"Everyone is okay. Kiran, they're okay." Alphonse gently pushes the trembling tactician away.

"You were the one that worried us." Marth's boots scuff the ground in the corner of Kiran's vision, and when they lift their head, he and Anna are standing over them. Color has returned to the Altean's face, and neither he nor Anna show any sign of ever having been damaged. Kiran stares at the blood on their hands, attempting to draw something coherent from their muddled thoughts.

"But…. what?" is all that they can manage.

"I'm sorry that you had to see that," Anna cuts in before Marth can go any further. "None of us are invincible, Kiran, not even Heroes. We're just fortunate that you were able to give us a second chance."

"Ho….w….?"

"You believe in us, don't you?" She winks. "I think that's the key to it."

Somehow, this fails to comfort them.


End file.
